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- Джордж Мартин
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And
she
had
seen
him
riding
beside
Lannister
far
too
often
,
talking
in
low
voices
and
laughing
at
some
private
joke
.
She
would
have
preferred
to
separate
him
from
the
dwarf
here
and
now
,
but
having
agreed
that
Marillion
might
continue
to
the
Eyrie
,
she
could
see
no
gracious
way
to
deny
that
same
right
to
Bronn
.
"
As
you
wish
,
"
she
said
,
although
she
noted
that
he
had
not
actually
asked
her
permission
.
Ser
Willis
Wode
remained
with
Ser
Rodrik
,
a
soft-spoken
septon
fussing
over
their
wounds
.
Their
horses
were
left
behind
as
well
,
poor
ragged
things
.
Ser
Donnel
promised
to
send
birds
ahead
to
the
Eyrie
and
the
Gates
of
the
Moon
with
the
word
of
their
coming
.
Fresh
mounts
were
brought
forth
from
the
stables
,
surefooted
mountain
stock
with
shaggy
coats
,
and
within
the
hour
they
set
forth
once
again
.
Catelyn
rode
beside
her
uncle
as
they
began
the
descent
to
the
valley
floor
.
Behind
came
Bronn
,
Tyrion
Lannister
,
Marillion
,
and
six
of
Brynden
's
men
.
Not
until
they
were
a
third
of
the
way
down
the
mountain
path
,
well
out
of
earshot
of
the
others
,
did
Brynden
Tully
turn
to
her
and
say
,
"
So
,
child
.
Tell
me
about
this
storm
of
yours
.
"
"
I
have
not
been
a
child
in
many
years
,
Uncle
,
"
Catelyn
said
,
but
she
told
him
nonetheless
.
It
took
longer
than
she
would
have
believed
to
tell
it
all
,
Lysa
's
letter
and
Bran
's
fall
,
the
assassin
's
dagger
and
Littlefinger
and
her
chance
meeting
with
Tyrion
Lannister
in
the
crossroads
inn
.
Her
uncle
listened
silently
,
heavy
brows
shadowing
his
eyes
as
his
frown
grew
deeper
.
Brynden
Tully
had
always
known
how
to
listen
...
to
anyone
but
her
father
.
He
was
Lord
Hoster
's
brother
,
younger
by
five
years
,
but
the
two
of
them
had
been
at
war
as
far
back
as
Catelyn
could
remember
.
During
one
of
their
louder
quarrels
,
when
Catelyn
was
eight
,
Lord
Hoster
had
called
Brynden
"
the
black
goat
of
the
Tully
flock
.
"
Laughing
,
Brynden
had
pointed
out
that
the
sigil
of
their
house
was
a
leaping
trout
,
so
he
ought
to
be
a
black
fish
rather
than
a
black
goat
,
and
from
that
day
forward
he
had
taken
it
as
his
personal
emblem
.
The
war
had
not
ended
until
the
day
she
and
Lysa
had
been
wed.
.
It
was
at
their
wedding
feast
that
Brynden
told
his
brother
he
was
leaving
Riverrun
to
serve
Lysa
and
her
new
husband
,
the
Lord
of
the
Eyrie
.
Lord
Hoster
had
not
spoken
his
brother
's
name
since
,
from
what
Edmure
told
her
in
his
infrequent
letters
.
Nonetheless
,
during
all
those
years
of
Catelyn
's
girlhood
,
it
had
been
Brynden
the
Blackfish
to
whom
Lord
Hoster
's
children
had
run
with
their
tears
and
their
tales
,
when
Father
was
too
busy
and
Mother
too
ill
.
Catelyn
,
Lysa
,
Edmure
...
and
yes
,
even
Petyr
Baelish
,
their
father
's
ward
...
he
had
listened
to
them
all
patiently
,
as
he
listened
now
,
laughing
at
their
triumphs
and
sympathizing
with
their
childish
misfortunes
.
When
she
was
done
,
her
uncle
remained
silent
for
a
long
time
,
as
his
horse
negotiated
the
steep
,
rocky
trail
.
"
Your
father
must
be
told
,
"
he
said
at
last
.
"
If
the
Lannisters
should
march
,
Winterfell
is
remote
and
the
Vale
walled
up
behind
its
mountains
,
but
Riverrun
lies
right
in
their
path
.
"
"
I
'd
had
the
same
fear
,
"
Catelyn
admitted
.
